


Her Awakening

by LittleLostBean



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Gore, spoilers for The Good Doctor mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-09 09:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11666190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLostBean/pseuds/LittleLostBean
Summary: My imagined origin story for the first time Grim Alex is awoken by the serum (pre-game)!





	Her Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever time writing a fanfic so go easy on me ;D I know my writing isn't wonderful and I'm not 100% sure I even like this fic... but I hope to improve- hopefully by writing more fics! Thank you in advance for reading!

It’s just another serum. Boring. All she does every hour of every day is make serums. But Dr. Hypatia is dedicated to them, fascinated by the process of trial and error, how the simplest change in ingredients can alter the properties of a mixture completely… and a cure for bloodfly fever must be close, any day now, She’s bracing herself for the relief she’ll feel when its complete. For a night that she can sleep peacefully without dreading over the increasing death count.  
I watch her, day after day, though her passion is inspiring and her willpower astounding, it bores me to death. If I could even die. If I was actually alive to begin with.  
For now I am a thought, a fragment of Alexandria’s awareness. I’ve been here a while but it’s only recently have I been identifying as my own being- her last serum trial woke me up, made me aware that my consciousness was independent to Hypatia’s, and now I remain tirelessly watching her go about her pathetic life.  
I’m the little “what if” in the outskirts of her mind, craving adventure but never getting the satisfaction. Everybody has one of me. You see a loved one standing on the edge of a cliff and you think, “what if I just pushed?”   
Random, meaningless ideas fuelled purely by your imagination, often followed by guilt or disgust at your mind- at me- for even suggesting such a thing, easily ignored but ever present.  
Right now, I’m telling my dear Dr. Hypatia to smash the serum and drown her failures in cheap liquor (something my lovely lady is guilty of doing in the past). Unfortunately, she’s a sensible woman and pushes away my insistence for destruction, instead reading through her notes to make sure she hasn’t missed any vital step that could affect the outcome of this trial, using the heel of her other hand to rub away a tension headache.

The doctor puts her notes down and reaches for the test tube rack, lifting the tube to her lips and swilling some around her mouth, finding it tastes sweet almost like honey. Not like flavour matters, but it’s comforting to know that if this serum works effectively, she won’t have to drastically alter the formula to make it easier to stomach. Vasco, her assistant sitting directly across from her, mimics her actions and shows the same look of satisfaction- though its not actually clear if he likes it or if he’s just trying to please her. The both of them then pause to add this to their notes, along with the precise time so that any side effects can be carefully recorded in the order that they displayed themselves.  
She nods to Vasco but no words pass between them, then tips her head back, downing the remaining serum quickly, like a shot of whiskey, and watches Vasco drink his with more care.She notes that it is easier to breath now, almost as if the liquid has cleared her lungs. She tries to suppress her delight but can’t help wondering if this is the one. And suddenly she’s consumed in questions; how expensive is mass production going to be? Will we have to substitute some of the ingredients with cheaper alternatives? Will this work on the more severe cases? What is its shelf life? How long will-

And I then feel something.

And that is odd because I am an idea, a concept.I am not a person and I do not feel.  
But I also can’t deny that in that moment I feel everything; the pressure of the pen in her fingers, the beating of her heart, her tongue heavy in her mouth, an itch on the upper half of her calf, the texture of her clothes on her skin, her toes in her boots, a stray piece of hair tapping on her forehead as she begins to sway back and forth…. tightness in her chest… the rushing of air as the ground moves upwards to meet her… as she falls headfirst to the floor. I wait for her to catch herself but realise that Dr. Hypatia is no longer mentally present.  
So we/so she/so I tumble onto the ground.

And take my very first breath. It is not elegant; it’s a desperate gulp for oxygen as I realise that she is now me and I am a person and people must breath to sustain life.  
I look to Vasco, my -no- her assistant. He is staring at the clock on the wall completely fixated by the ticking of the second hand, his breath catching each time it ticks. Under the table I can see his fingernails digging into his arm and little rims of scarlet welling up from the crescent shaped punctures he’s created. Beautiful.  
He looks to her -looks to me- and says, “Outsider’s balls! I don’t – I don’t think we’re done working just yet!” his voice is weary despite his cursing, his face contorted, he’s facing me now but the hand round his wrist is gripping harder, the scarlet spills over the edges his broken skin and trails down his arm…and I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it. I can-  
“Alexandria?”  
The blood soaked arm has moved closer to me, and its owner with it, he looks concerned but also slightly like he’s about to throw up his last meal onto me. I don’t know if I would mind.  
“Dr. Hypatia?”  
He calls her name again so I make eye contact, because that’s what you do if someone is talking to you. He smiles a little when I look at him. I can feel rage prickling under my skin.  
“Are you alright? I mean- not to say I feel great myself- but I thought I’d lost you for a minute there! Perhaps we should just mark this up as a failure and sleep it off…” He’s bullshitting; I can see it in his eyes. He’s looking me over like he would a slab of meat, like he doesn’t know what he’s going to do to me if I stay. A bit of me is curious to find out…  
But I can’t because I value my new life and despite the temptation -the pleasure it would bring me- don’t want it taken from me just yet.  
“I feel just wonderful, thank you, Vasco…though, I’m not sure if I could answer for the good Doctor, I expect she’s feeling the opposite.” And I smile at him, but I’m not quite use to smiling yet; I can feel the corners of my mouth straining, my muscles protesting, as I force my face to perform an expression in a way that its never quite attempted to before.  
Vasco flinches, flicking a droplet of his beautiful scarlet onto my knee, I watch it soak into my stockings as if it was always there. My grin does not falter.  
He picks up his pencil with his bloody fingers and begins to write.  
“That is just fascinating Doctor, so you’re saying you feel… Different? Like a- like a different person? Some sort of split personality? Don’t- don’t try and write this down, I’ll take the notes, could you explain to me how you feel?”  
Alexandria had been worried about this serum having some sort of cognitive effect, what a clever girl...  
“No.”  
“erm, sorry what? Doctor I know you feel off but we both promised to sit this out. This- this is how we do things here. Describe to me how you feel… please?”  
He’s contradicting himself now, he just gave her permission to leave but now he’s demanding she stays. And he’s dripping with sweat; in fact, while he witters on he uses his non-writing hand to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, leaving a long smear of blood in its place. Such a beautiful serum, its laughable how two great minds could have created something so far from what they’d been aiming for.  
Vasco is still looking at me with a stupid expression, making me realise I haven’t actually responded to whatever the hell he’s been going on about.  
“Don’t call me her name.” I start, “The serum has done its job, I will take my leave now, you will find me in her- In my lab, Vasco, good day” And with that I rise, he watches me go and for a second looks like he wants to protest…then his eyes catch on the open wound on his wrist and he starts to panic, using his parchment paper to attempt stop the rapid flow, I decide to leave him be. I’m glad he’s distracted as my exit is not as impressive as I would have liked it to be; I stumble about like a drunken whaler, unsure of how people actually stay standing, but manage to walk straight after a few attempts (removing Alexandria’s restricting boots helped) and soon I’m running down the corridors with glee.

Hypatia’s Lab smells like the scarlet on Vasco’s wrist. Delicious. There is a body on her workbench; a soldier, I believe, who was bitten when one of Alexandria’s bloodflies escaped. But it’s my workbench now so the body belongs to me.  
He’s been laid out respectfully, a clean cloth over his face and neat bandages over the his arms to cover the wounds created by the removal of samples…  
But he’s dead! Dead dead dead!!! So what’s the point in all this formality? The body doesn’t feel the effort that she’s put into retaining his dignity! He’s a corpse! Corpses have no dignity! The second he succumbed to his fever he stopped being a man and started being a thing. Think of all the resources wasted on honouring a carcass. It is truly pathetic.  
I whisk away the face cloth (because I can always appreciate a dramatic flair while performing mundane tasks) and using Alexandria’s well kept fingernails I remove his left eyeball- there is no particular reason for this action, I was just annoyed by how perfect and still his little dead face was- it makes a squelching noise as I pull it away and I lose my grip to its unusual texture, causing it to hang from his socket, bouncing slightly like the ball on one of those cup-and-ball games. I grab it again but this time with more force than necessary and it pops like a grape in my fist, I giggle, it’s fluid splattering over my face. Blood begins seeping slowly from his empty socket -scarlet tears contrasting beautifully with his grey skin. I run my index finger up his cheek, feeling the outline of his cheekbone, and then plunge it into his empty hole; smearing the red grime I collect over my lips like the makeup those upper-class ladies wear to their balls and parties.  
There’s a sharp gasp from the archway behind me behind, I turn to see a guardswoman standing there, bent knees in anticipation, hand hovering over her sheathed blade as she assesses the situation, unsure of what to make of me.  
“Identify yourself!” She shouts, her stance is strong but a break in her voice gives away her unease.  
It hits me then that she hasn’t recognised me, excitement bubbles up inside and in an attempt to convey this to her I practically shriek “Its me! Me! In the flesh and the grime! Grim Alex! I’m awake! I’m here! Aren’t you so happy to finally meet me?”  
She’s completely taken back by my outcry and as I revel in the moment I notice the scalpel on the table…no wait, it was in my hand the whole time… and then, embedded in the neck of the guard... I retrieve it from her body, unsure of how it got there, and dance in the fountain of red that she gives off; letting it wash over me, purging me of Alexandria’s boring musty smell.  
But when the serum wears off Vasco will be expecting Dr. Hypatia back to normal and if she is not he will know that something is amiss. So I must try to suppress my eagerness for now. This was my own trial run and now I must wait, dormant under Alexandria’s skin until my hunger grows. Until I find a purpose for my appetite… Though this does not mean I’m going to clean up the mess I’ve made for her, I want to see her reaction to my handiwork.  
Dr.Hypatia rubs her eyes and takes in the chaos around her, she looks at her hands, covered in blood that she knows can not be her own, at the crimson stains on her lab coat, and feels a liquid running down her face, dripping into her mouth… it tastes like iron and salt…

…She collapses onto the floor, twisted among the bodies I created for her.


End file.
